Blue skies
by IndigoAndTheFandoms
Summary: Arthur wakes up alone on a beach, with no Merlin and no idea how he's not dead. Is Merlin okay? And who does the mysterious house belong to? Just a short one-shot that's been bouncing around in my head for a while.


**Surprise! I'm not dead :) I've just been insanely busy and lost all motivation to write. Hopefully, you guys enjoy this little piece that's been rattling around in my head for a while.**

It was early morning. That was the first thing that Arthur's disorientated brain decided to inform him. The second thing was that he was wet. Completely wet. It was almost as if he'd taken a bath in full armour. Speaking of water, it suddenly occurred to Arthur that he was lying on his back on some kind of beach.

Maybe he should sit up? Yes, that might provide some answers. Unfortunately, that task was harder than it sounded. Mainly because his limbs still felt like they were made of fabric. But also because armour is heavy enough at the best of times and an extra gallon of water hanging off him wasn't making the task any easier. Even his sword, which usually felt like a feather against his hip, felt like it weighed more than Percival.

After several minutes and a great deal of difficulty, Arthur managed to push himself into a seated position. From his new vantage point, he saw that he was on the shore of a lake that was surrounded a forest.

Realising that he would have to wait and let his body recover if he wanted to move anymore, Arthur took a deep breath and tried to figure out how he'd ended up lying by a lake. His last memory was kissing Guinevere before... before… Recollection hit like a bolt of lightening

Guinevere, Camelot, Saxons, Dragons, Morgana, Magic, Mordred, Excalibur,

Merlin

Everything came back to him, which unfortunately led to more questions. He was dying, wasn't he? Yes, Arthur specifically remembered everything going dark and a light appearing. And where was Merlin? Had the idiot really left his body on the beach and wandered off? If so, why was he wet?

Armed with his newly recovered mental faculties, Arthur attempted to stand up.

1…2…3

He heaved himself up and managed an ungraceful and unsteady return to standing on two legs.

He stood there for a second and admired his surroundings. The sand around him looked as though it hadn't been disturbed in a very long time. Another mystery to add to the growing list.

Arthur slowly spun around in an attempt to get a grip on his surroundings. As far as he could tell, he was in the same place as he was when he "died", just a long time later. The trees had aged and the sand was clear. Even the tower in the centre of the lake had fallen.

Arthur had turned 180˚ when he noticed the house sitting just off the beach directly behind him. It was almost hidden by the trees but it was there. A modest but sturdy structure made from some kind of dark wood. Although it didn't look like anything special, the place seemed to hum. As if it held all the answers he was looking for.

Slowly, but eagerly, Arthur trudged his way through the sand and up to the house. He still felt dizzy, and he knew he wouldn't make it too far without needing a rest. Nevertheless, he carried on with a stubbornness that Penndragons were famous for.

Arthur reached out his arm and leant against a tree. Now that he was closer he was able to spot certain details on the house that had previously been obscured. Details like the Penndragon crest carved above the door. And the plentiful herb garden that sat lay just to the east of the house.

Whoever lived here had some explaining to do, that was for sure. Arthur summoned all of his courage and knocked on the door.

No one answered.

"Hello?" Arthur's voice was hoarse and rough, as though he hadn't spoken in centuries. "Is anyone home?"

There was still no reply.

When he tried the knob, he found that the door opened with no hesitation.

The house was much larger on the inside than it was on the outside. It was brightly lit with a mix of dozens of floating candles and peculiar metal contraptions that emitted a blinding white light. On a desk, there were piles of parchment and texts. However, balancing precariously on the edge of some books was a strange, thin slab of silver metal. There was a cauldron that bubbled cheerfully in the corner and a handsome wooden table sat in the centre of the room. Comfy chairs were stuffed into corners and piles of books and strange artefacts covered every empty space in the room. Every space on the wall that wasn't taken up by a bookshelf was hidden by paintings of strange and wonderful scenes. Some of the caught his eye: A great battle being fought between men in red coats and men in blue, both sides waving long metal objects. A Queen with vibrant red hair. A countryside where the colours blend and mix in a swirling, captivating way.

Two doors led off to other rooms, both agar. One looked like a kitchen, whereas the other seemed to lead to a bedroom. Arthur chose the bedroom.

Its simplicity was in direct contrast to the chaos of the main room. There was only a small bed in the corner, a wardrobe against the wall and a small alcove partially covered by some red cloth. Arthur headed over to the wardrobe first.

None of it was very interesting or informative. All it told him was that the owner of this house was male and that his clothes were very strange and made of some unknown material.

Finally, Arthur turned the alcove. He was somehow drawn to it and terrified by it. It was if his wildest dreams and darkest nightmares lay beyond that scrap of red fabric.

Just as he was about to brush the fabric aside, Arthur realised what it was. A double of the cape that hung off his back. The colour had faded over time, and the golden dragon must be facing away from him, but Arthur would know it anywhere. The real question was, what is it doing all the way out here?

Gathering all his courage, Arthur moved the cloak aside to reveal…

An old, leather-bound book, a metal bracelet with intricate designs, pieces of armour, several trinkets and… Arthur stopped. There was a white handkerchief embroidered with the words "With all my heart". Gwen had given it to him before the battle as a reminder to him to come home. Arthur checked under his armour, it wasn't there. He kept it right by his heart, just where Gwen always is, so he definitely would have noticed if someone had taken it while he was awake.

Then his heart froze. The handkerchief could be explained if someone had taken it while he was unconscious? Dead? Either way, someone could have taken it. But lying next to it was something that the owner would never relinquish. Something that was on his person every waking minute of the day. Lying beside the handkerchief was a piece of ragged red cloth that Merlin used as a neck scarf.

This was proof that whoever lived here was bad news. They had done something to Merlin. His first priority was to make sure Merlin was safe. Chances were, the idiot had come to this house to find help and ended up trapped in the basement of some evil sorcerer.

But, Merlin was a sorcerer, wasn't he? Did that mean he could take care of himself? No, magic or no magic, Merlin was still incapable of looking after himself. It was like the man had a death wish. Then again, he had magic in Camelot so maybe he really didn't have any regard for his personal safety.

Merlin. Arthur knew that he had no idea what Merlin had done for him and for Camelot. But he could guess. There wasn't a single doubt in his mind that Merlin had ever or could ever betray Camelot. It simply wasn't possible. Not that Arthur trusted magic; he'd had too many bad experiences with people who had abused it. But he wasn't his Father. He believed that the punishment should fit the crime. Shortly after his coronation, he had been ushered into quiet rooms and met several shady individuals who claimed that they had worked for his Father in his "hunt for justice". Arthur had dismissed them all on the spot.

He was disturbed from his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening. Shuffling and mumbling drifted into the room. What sounded like a bag was dropped onto the floor.

It was only then that Arthur realised that he had been clutching the neckerchief tightly in his right hand. He dropped it back where he had found and skilfully pulled his sword in a movement that had been mastered in hours of training. He crept to the door, waited for a moment, then sprang out into the next room. Arthur only saw the old man for a moment before Excalibur was at his neck.

"Who are you? And what have you done with Merlin?"

The old man stopped completely. Arthur wasn't even sure if he was breathing. He had long white hair and a matching beard. He looked about 80 but his eyes were a lot older. He looked as though he had lived for a thousand years but seen nothing but horrors. He was wearing the same weird clothes that he had found in the wardrobe. Despite all of this, the old man seemed familiar. As though they had met somewhere long ago.

Then he seemed to wake up. His eyes widened and he took a deep breath.

"A-Ar-Arthur?" He said the name like it was his first drink of water after being lost in a desert for years. His voice was dry and raspy and it reminded Arthur of the crumbling parchment in Geoffrey's library

Suddenly Arthur placed the old man. Images flashed in his mind

"And you! I have heard how you…. Mistreat your servants!"

"I will heal your father"

An old man standing on a cliff, winning the war for them.

"I'm a sorcerer. I have magic."

He stumbled back. Sword falling to his side. Wind knocked from his chest.

"Merlin?" The name was a whisper, barely heard over the sound of his beating heart.

"Arthur!"

There were tears flowing down Merlin's withered face, his entire body seemed to shake. With joy or fear, Arthur couldn't tell.

"Merlin? What… What happened to you?"

He was prevented from continuing by Merlin throwing himself at him in a hug that betrayed surprising strength for someone who looked so frail.

"I waited. For so long. But I knew you would come back. I knew you wouldn't leave me."

Arthur grabbed Merlin's shoulders and held him at arm's length, examining every line and detail of his face.

"How long? Merlin, look at me. How. Long?"

"One thousand, five hundred and sixty-two years, four months and twelve days."

At first, Arthur thought that he was joking. He had to be joking, right? No one could live that long. No one would wait that long for him.

But then he saw Merlin's eyes and he knew that he was telling the truth. Merlin had waited for every second of every minute of every day for Arthur. Because that's just who he is. Arthur didn't deserve that kind of loyalty.

"Why? How? Why? For God's sake Merlin, why? I died. I was dead. How could you have possibly known this would happen? Why would you wait," Arthurs' voice failed him for a moment, "Why would you wait all this time, for me?"

Merlin started at him, blue met blue as each drank in the others face. Both silently giving the other a message that couldn't be expressed with words.

"I didn't know you were coming back. Not for certain. All I had was a dragon's word and hope. I hoped. If I didn't… well, let's just say that there were some days when it seemed like I was living a nightmare belonging to some kind of monster and I clung to that hope with everything I had. As to why? That's easy. Because you're worth waiting for. "

"I'm not… Merlin, I'm not worthy of this kind of loyalty. Of this kind of… devotion. I've done so many things wrong Merlin, and I never appreciated…"

Merlin grabbed his arm.

"Look at me, Arthur. Look at me. Would you have done the same for me?"

"Yes." Arthur didn't even think about it. Not even for a second. Of course, he would wait for Merlin. How was that even a question?

Merlin's smile lit up the room. He may have looked like he would crumble like old parchment at any moment and tears may have been cascading down his cheeks, but Merlin's smile was still brighter than the sun itself.

"There you go. That's why."

For a while the two men stood there, laughing and crying. Although slowly their tears abated like rain turning to blue sky and their laughter rang through the house.

 **There you go, folks. I was going to continue this a bit further but I felt that if I did it would just become another unfinished story that I would lose inspiration for. Anyway, thanks for reading and I'll see you again when I get another random splash of inspiration (hopefully it won't be another year!).**

 **Oh, and as to the handkerchief, I was trying to think of an object that was important to Gwen and my mind went completely blank. I couldn't find anything, so I made it up (sorry!).**


End file.
